


We've Got No Control, We're Under Control

by AguScribbles



Category: The Strokes
Genre: F/M, Morning After, implied excessive drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AguScribbles/pseuds/AguScribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You wake up in a stranger's bed with only scraps of memories from last nite. Where are you and with whom?</p>
<p>A short fic I wrote ages ago for my Julian-obsessed friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We've Got No Control, We're Under Control

**Author's Note:**

> For my dearest [umekozaru](http://umekozaru.tumblr.com).

You wake up in an unknown room, in an unknown bed, having an enormous headache. 

“Ok, this is the last time I’ve drank so much,” you whisper to yourself and try to figure out whose place you’re at. Not any of your friends, for sure - there are Velvet Underground and Pearl Jam posters on the wall, tons of records of bands you haven’t heard of, covered with pizza boxes, a pair of boxers on the floor… 

“So it must’ve been a guy…” you think.

As you uncover the bedsheets you find yourself naked.

“Oh crap, looks like I’ve slept with him,” you mumble and once again think you should stop drinking. You feel really embarassed, because you can’t recall the guy’s name and not even his face. 

"oh my God… this sucks," you think and try to remember even the slightest bits of last night. You went to this rocker club with your girlfriends… the bartender made you delicious shots… you recall a really sexy low voice asking you to dance… You blush as you remember that voice whispering your name several times that night. Still no face to connect it to though.

You lay back on the empty bed and put your face on the pillow - a mix of scents hits your nose: beer, cigarettes and something sweet… like chestnut mixed with cinnamon. Chestnut… In another flash of memories you remember his longer browny hair falling on your face everytime he pulled you closer under his body… very long body, you remember and gasp at the thought that he actually kept you pressed to himself the whole night long. But you still can’t recall that face!

You get up and try to find some photos of his that could give you some clue. None. Instead you find a mirror that reveals the terrible condition of your hair and make up.

"Oh God…” you sit on the floor as you remember how he pulled on that hair of yours intensely… “Fuck, it was actually a pretty rad night," you smile at yourself. “It would be a lot easier if I could recall WHO I spend it with!”

Having said that you decide to go and look around the apartment. As you struggle to find any of your clothes, you smell a nice scent of fried bacon with eggs. A sign someone is home. All your clothes seem to have disappeared magically, so you decide to wrap yourself with the bedsheet and slowly open the bedroom door. As you peek out into the kitchen, you see a tall guy with enormous afro putting some plates into the dishwasher.

"Umm… hi…” you start slowly as he turns around. "Albert… Hammond Junior!” you hear yourself giggling nervously and you sit baffled at the table. He smiles at you and hands you a plate with toasts and bacon on it.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” he asks with a grin. You just sit there astonished and shake your head while repeating in your mind “Albert… Hammond… Junior?”. 

You finally have the guts and speak out: “Errmm… did we… you know."

You can feel your cheeks turn red as he stares at you for a while and then bursts out laughing.

"Oh baby cheeses, you really don’t remember much, do you? Don’t worry, I didn’t take advantage of you."

You sigh with relief, but then you’re puzzled at the bits of memories running through your head. That body, that scent… was it all just a dream?

“He did," says Albert grinning while pointing at Julian Fernando Casablancas getting out of the bathroom with just a white towel around his waist.


End file.
